Chapter 7 #2
Nima wiped a shaking hand down his face.
“I sent you emails, Mari. I tried to reach out.” He had to explain himself.
“The place in Oregon was remote. No cell service or landline phone, but the house had a computer. We’d never emailed each other before, always relied on texts and calls, but I created an email account and sent you messages.
” He let out a heavy sigh. “I only realized weeks later that I had a typo in your email address. I was going off memory, and I got it wrong—I’m sorry.
But I connected with my mom, and she said she talked to you.
I wasn’t trying to run away from you. I assumed you’d get my messages and meet me on the other end.
But when I arrived in Alaska, I learned that you’d taken a job in Portland and weren’t coming home.
And you didn’t respond to any of my calls or texts once I got a new phone. ”
Mari covered her face with her hands. “I was so worried and then confused and hurt. When your mom spoke of bad decisions and regrets, I assumed you meant me, us, our relationship, like your text said. I was a heartbroken bride whose husband had left her on her wedding night.” She paused, her throat working in a swallow.
“So, I . . . I deleted our texts and blocked your number.” She looked up at him, remorse etching her features.
“I’m sorry, Nima. Twenty-two-year-olds don’t make the best decisions.
And then I avoided coming home and dealing with my feelings. And, well, years went by.”
He squeezed her hand in reassurance. While the pain was still there, it wasn’t as raw as before.
It was time for apologies and moving on.
“I should have found a way to tell you what really happened—I didn’t tell anyone.
And as you now know, I had no idea we were married.
But after what happened at Burning Man and my desperate situation, I questioned whether I was good enough for you. ”
Mari gripped his shoulders. “I never questioned that. Ever.” She closed her eyes. “Except when I thought you abandoned me,” she admitted, sounding sheepish. “But never because of what you are or what you look like.”
Fresh tears dampened Nima’s eyes. After all this time and self-healing, he still welcomed Mari’s words.
“Where do we go from here?” he asked. “Do you think we can be friends?” Yesterday’s closet interlude proved their lingering mutual attraction, but it seemed inappropriate to suggest more than friendship. Having Mari in his life again would be a dream come true . . . if she agreed to it.
Mari’s head whirled, and this time it wasn’t from getting hit by a spruce tree.
For years, she blamed Nima entirely for their breakup, selfishly focused on her own hurt feelings, never letting him explain himself.
But why had she so easily believed Nima had fled from her?
While her body ached from the accident last night, her insides burned with regret over their past. Surely she had more confidence and better communication skills now and could prevent a misunderstanding like this from ever happening again.
Despite wearing their wedding rings on a chain, she’d gone to great lengths to erase Nima from her life. She could hardly picture him in it now. But being with him since the accident had been unexpectedly easy and comfortable. She’d missed him so damn much.
“I’d like to be friends,” she said, meaning it.
And yet alarm bells went off in her head.
She had the bakery to think about now, a whole new chapter in her life.
“But I’d still like a divorce. We were only married in the legal sense, after all.
” They may still be attracted to one another, but that didn’t mean they could suddenly pick up where they left off ten years ago.
Love and relationships didn’t work that way.
Nima’s lips flattened, but to her massive relief, he nodded in agreement. “That sounds sensible.”
Mari eased back into her pillows, wincing when her ribs twinged, and ankle throbbed.
Nima stood. “I’ll get your pain pills and make toast so you’re not taking them on an empty stomach. You should rest. The sun will be up soon, and I’ll inspect your house in the daylight for earthquake damage. We can discuss your care plans after.”
Mari let out a long sigh and glanced around her room. Even though minor aftershocks had jolted them all night, and an earthquake had led to her injury, she’d forgotten about the potential damage to her house. Her head was too full as it was.
Nima said, “When we returned late last night, I picked up a few things that had fallen. I placed them on the nearest surface so that neither of us would accidentally step on them or trip. What I assume was your fruit bowl fell off the kitchen counter and broke, but that’s the only damage I’ve seen.
The lights—and the heat—came back on around two a.m.”
She scanned the room, noting a stack of books on top of her shelf, crooked pictures on the wall, and the—crap!—huge, blue, monster dildo on her nightstand. Mari’s cheeks flamed. She yanked her gaze away from Big Blue, hoping to avoid drawing Nima’s attention to it.
Where had she left it? Why hadn’t she tucked it back into her drawer after cleaning it?
Oh. My. God. Had it fallen, and he’d picked it up?
Of course, the dildo she’d left out had to be the giant, yeti-looking one.
Now he’d know she got off using a toy that looked like his cock. Great. Did friends do things like that?
She forced a smile as she looked up at him. “Toast would be perfect, thank you.” Had she said that too fast, too eagerly? She didn’t care.
He nodded and left her room. The second he was gone, she grabbed the dildo, intent on stashing it back in her drawer.
But she fumbled the grab, then let out a yelp when she twisted to catch it.
Her abused ribcage did not like that move, and the toy tumbled from her grip.
Its smooth, silicone crown bounced off the hardwood floor with a loud thunk before it came to rest so far out of her reach, it was almost as comical as it was mortifying.
Mari looked up as a shadow darkened the doorway. “Are you okay?” Nima asked. “It sounded like you were in . . . pain.”
He’d seen it. His lips even twitched. She buried her face in her hands, peeking at him through her fingers.
“That was on the floor when we came in last night. I put it on your nightstand.”
“I feel very exposed,” Mari admitted. “Not only do you know I’ve been wearing our wedding rings on a chain all this time, but now Big Blue .
. .” She gestured toward the phallus on her floor.
“And . . . And I have to pee. Can you please carry me to the bathroom before you make toast? The crutches hurt my ribs.”
“First,” he said, bending over and picking up her sex toy.
“I’m wearing our rings now.” He patted his chest, his hand lingering as if he enjoyed the feel of them there.
Heat blossomed over Mari’s skin at his admission.
Despite her insistence on a divorce, she liked that he wore their rings and seemed to cherish them.
“I could have left them in my pocket or set them on your nightstand next to your impressively large, yeti-blue dildo, but I didn’t. ”
Mari wanted to melt into the bed, but she also had to smile a little at the way Nima was handling this.
“And second,” he continued, “it’s none of my business what you do in the privacy of your bedroom.” He flashed her a wicked grin as he wrapped his fingers around the shaft of the silicon penis. “Or that you have a dildo nearly the same size and color as my dick.”
She would not admit how much more she liked his dick.
As he set the toy back on her nightstand, a knowing smile on his sexy lips, he said, “Yes, I’ll carry you to the bathroom.”
Then her friend, Nima, who wore their wedding rings around his neck and had just held her sex toy in his hand, scooped her up and carried her, still in the clinic-issued scrubs, to the bathroom.
Mari had endured ten years of heartache, believing her one true love had abandoned her. Now that she had a second chance with him, she planned to do everything in her power to earn back his friendship.